Shadows and Dust
by Ensiho
Summary: Okay, anyone who knows me knows that I love Joaquin Phoenix Commodus, anyone knows that I love Joaquin Phoenix knows I hated the ending of Gladiator, put two and two together and here it is! An Alternate ending to Gladiator. Rated for violence and gore. C
1. The Beginning

Authors note:

I know that this battle doesn't EXACTLY follow what happened, so don't say anything about it. As for Commodus knowing about the wound on Maximus' arm, some guards that were there had told him about it. Don't comment about that, either…any questions, ask me in a review. Thanks, please review!

He could still feel the searing pain in his back as the platform rose. He pretty much expected that. He could hear them cheering his name, but the yells of the crowd were distant.

Maximus looked at Commodus for a brief moment, the emperor standing opposite him seemed so…sure…so confident. The scattered light on his white armor gave the appearance of an angel sent to protect…at least in Maximus' opinion. But no, he was exactly opposite that: A demon broken through the gates of Elysium. Commodus noticed Maximus' gaze and returned it with a glare.

They rose, emerging into the center of the arena, the guards immediately scattering to make a rectangle surrounding the Emperor and Former General.

The two walked towards the middle of the rectangle, each grabbing a sword from a guard as they passed…Commodus walking in great strides, Maximus weakening with every step.

Finally they reached the center; the emperor whirled around, cloaks flaring out under him. Maximus stood where he was, swaying slightly. The two looked like quite a match for each other…one looking so powerful, but the known powerful one looking weak.

Commodus made the first lunge, sword held in front of him. Maximus, though his energy was quickly draining, met him head on. The clash of metal sent the crowd into a cheering frenzy. Maximus raised his sword, Commodus blocked. The two continued, slashing, blocking, lunging, for maybe fifteen minutes, when the emperor lunged a final time.

Maximus caught his arm with his free hand, slamming his elbow into the side of Commodus' face, and at the same time letting go, allowing the emperor to topple into the ground. Commodus looked up just in time to roll out of the way and dodge Maximus' blade. He sprang to his feet, sword once more at the ready, and lunged again, once more meeting Maximus' fist. He ignored the pain and swung his sword. Maximus quickly blocked and swung his own sword horizontally, slashing the emperor's arm and causing him to drop the blade.

Commodus staggered backwards, holding his arm and watching Maximus. The stab earlier had clearly worked to his advantage, as Maximus was looking tired. The Emperor watched his opponent carefully, himself unarmed and his enemy still wielding his blade. Maximus released his sword, letting it fall to the ground and into the sand with a muffled thud. His eyes seemed to glaze over, he blinked, only opening his eyes halfway…but from what Commodus could see, they had a glassy look to them.

Maximus took a wobbly step forward, Commodus instinctively stepping back to avoid any attack that may come. The Gladiator reached put his hand forward, reaching for something that wasn't there. Commodus eyed him for a moment, slightly confused, unknowing that Maximus was reaching for the invisible door to Elysium. The Emperor quickly regained himself, looking to the head guard.

"Quintus, your sword!" He shouted, taking a step in his direction. Quintus didn't move. "Give it to me!" He yelled, still louder. The crowd had gone deathly silent, no longer cheering as they had during the sword battle. "Give me your sword, Quintus." Commodus ordered, trying to calm himself down, knowing a temper could be his demise. Yet, Quintus remained unmoving. The agitated Emperor started at him briefly, and then turned in a backwards circle, looking at all of the surrounding guards.

"A sword, give me a sword!" he shouted, almost desperately. Then Quintus stepped forward, and Commodus turned to him, not allowing his hopes that he was going to receive help appear in his expression.

"Sheathe your swords! Sheathe them!" He commanded to the guards, they all obeyed as one, almost like robots. Commodus' hopes turned once more to fury and loathing as Quintus stepped back to watch the fight once more. So, everyone was in on it, even his head guard.

The Emperor turned back to Maximus, who still stood with his arm outstretched. That's when Commodus remembered it, his last resort…He pulled a dagger out of his sleeve, glaring at his childhood friend, and once more lunged forward. Instantly Maximus snapped out of it, grabbing Commodus' wrist, and holding him fast as his elbow made contact with the side of his face.

Maximus moved his hand so it was over the Emperors and tightened his grip, so that the Emperor himself was holding the dagger and was unable to let go. He forced Commodus' arm back, so the tip of the dagger was aimed at his neck and slowly began to push it forward.

As the dagger neared his neck, Commodus began to desperately punch Maximus weakly in the sides. His eyes widened as he realized something, the wound…not the one from earlier, when he tried to escape…the one on his arm. Commodus raised his free arm crossing it over the two other arms fighting over the dagger, and scrapped it against the daggers blade accidentally as he did so. It ripped through his sleeve and raked against his skin. He grunted softly as he did and jerked himself backwards with force as he swung his arm to hit Maximus' upper arm, jus above where the mark of the legion would have been. All his energy went into the last blow, so all he could do was hope that it had worked.

It took a few long seconds for Maximus to register the blow. The two stood staring into each others eyes, waiting. Then a wave of searing pain hit Maximus, far worse then the stab wound from earlier…worse than anything he'd ever experienced, this pain was the world…he let go of the Emperors hand and fell to his knees, grasping at his arm as the staggered backwards, slashing his dagger across Maximus' face. He threw it out of his opponents reach and then ran behind him to grab one of the fallen swords. He picked one up, turning to face his once best friend, and walked forward. Maximus, dazed at the blow to his face, looked into the sand where his blood steadily dripped. Then he looked up, into the sun, into the spot where Lucille and Lucius sat.

Commodus stepped behind him, raising the sword above his head. Maximus could feel Commodus there, and remembered this position. This was exactly how he'd planned to have him killed so long ago…maybe the same trick would work.

Lucille, who'd been watching with tears streaming down her face, covered her mouth as she began to cry harder. Lucius watched intently, knowing what had happened. The love of two men had driven them into madness…into death.

Maximus quickly rose to his feet, planning to head-butt Commodus in the face as he'd done the last time he was like this.

Lucille's cry of "_Maximus!_" echoed through the silent crowd as Commodus' sword drove through Maximus' back and tore through the middle of his chest, the blade a mass of crimson blood. Maximus looked down at the blade, feeling no pain, but realizing he'd finally reached to door to Elysium.

"Shadows…..and dust…." He whispered, quoting his former owner, Proximo, just before the sword was ripped out of his back. And with that, Maximus fell forward, silent and unmoving.

Commodus looked down at the body, no emotion sweeping through him. He looked around; Quintus started down at the body of his general, and looked utterly shocked. Then Commodus looked up into the seat for his sister and nephew. Lucius hugged his mother as she sobbed openly into his shoulder. The crowd itself was silent as death.

He threw the sword to the ground, blood from its blade staining the ground the instant it touched the sand, then walked through the opening the guards had made for him, and exited the arena…Commodus…the Victorious…

That night, Lucille sat in her room on her bed, tears still falling into her open palms that lay in her lap. She looked up at the locked door for the twentieth time that hour, her eyes red and tears streaming down her face; her brother had locked her in, not allowing her to see anyone.

Quintus lay in a pool of his own blood, bruises scattered along his body, blood pouring from gashes, from his nose, from his lips, and from his mouth. His left hand lay open and reaching for the dagger that was but a few feet out of reach…the dagger that may have once saved his life…but no longer; the savage beating delivered from the Praetorian guards under Commodus' orders had ended his life, and now his body lay in the open walkway as a warning to all who so much as thought of betraying their Emperor as he had done himself.

Gracchus, too, lay dead, collapsed on the side of his chair at the dinner table, thanks to the work of a slow poison applied to his food. Gaius was frozen in his bed, eyes wide open in shock, next to his silent and still lover. The snake had done its work very well.

Each of the senators lay on their own, each dead. Executed for treason. All the senators but one…Falco stood obediently next to his emperor, he was pretty much the only one that remained faithfully loyal to Commodus through everything that had happened.

Commodus sat on his throne, leaning slightly on his left arm, staring ahead with a look that exceeded anything to do with power in his eyes. His look was something of fury, yet satisfaction, as he gazed through the open doors and into the blood red light of the rising sun…


	2. Devastation

Authors Note:

All right guys, you win….ok? This story was meant to be a one-shot, but if you go through and read my reviews, nearly every single one tells me to continue on…so here it is. Just to let you know, it probably isn't going to go very far, so don't expect it to be updated every three seconds. Get it, Got it, Good…now, on with the story:

Chapter 2:

Devastation

"Lucille wants to see you." A guard stood at the doorway of Commodus' chambers, bowing and adding the annoying, yet somewhat satisfactory 'Caesar' at the end of his sentence. However, the young emperor did not look up from the papers on which he was so focused on.

"How is she?" He did not look up.

"Still devastated, sir." The young praetorian was roughly the age of twenty, and Commodus was reminded irritably of Gracchus in his presence.

"I believe I told no one to enter her chambers." Commodus' tone remained calm, almost placid as he signed off a few of the papers, and still refused to look up.

"You did, Caesar."

"Then _what_ were you doing there!" He now slammed the papers on his desk, overturning an ink jar that thankfully spread its contents away from his forms. His icy cold gaze fell on the much smaller guard as he rose to his feet, a look of fury spreading over his face.

"She begged from t he other side…" The guard cowered away, knowing how quickly the emperor executed people these days.

"You're sure." It came out more of a statement than a question, but his gaze did not lower.

"Absolutely, sir."

"…Fine." He dismissed after a moment of contemplation. He pushed past the young guard, evidently named Tiberius, and made his way towards Lucille's room.

It'd been nearly a week since he'd stained his hands with Maximus' blood, and still Lucille remained distraught. He refused to let her see anyone but himself for a while, punishment for what'd she'd planned against him. Even Lucius was locked in a different room, for he knew this also struck her with a fierce blow.

He opened her door and walked in for the second time since she'd been imprisoned. And as the same time as before, she was on her bed, tears rolling down her cheeks. The last visit, he'd walked out when she'd started talking about Maximus. He got the feeling that was about to do the same right now.

"Commodus…" She sobbed, looking up at him, tears readily racing down her cheeks and falling onto a puddle on the floor. She rose, still staring at the ground (he caught a fleeting glimpse of her crying when father had died), and let the drops steadily hit the ground in a pattern. Pat…Pat…Pat….Pat…

The emperor walked towards his sister, arms open in an attempt at a comforting embrace for her. To his satisfaction, she fell into it, arms tucked to her chest as he hugged her, still crying into his shoulder.

Commodus found the silence between himself and his sister unnerving, and felt he had to say something. The problem was what to say. Talking with her was like walking on shattered glass, you'd say one thing and boom, she was hysterical. He might've said two words last time, and she was sobbing her eyes out all over again.

"I…er—"

"When will this punishment end, brother?" Lucille cut him off as soon as she heard him begin to speak. She turned her reddened gaze up to him. "Have I not been punished enough? The one man I could ever love is dead, and –"

It was Commodus' turn to cut her off as he pushed her away, angered by her comment. He knew she would never love him, but to openly declare this in his presence was unjustifiable.

She looked up at him, knowing why he'd turned her away. The look on his face was of hurt, yet at the same time anger.

"The only man you shall ever have a chance at loving stands before you." His voice was a bit shaky, but this was to be expected after every rejection from his sister. What was it in his mind that made him so attracted to her?

"You killed him!" She flew into a rage, lunging at Commodus. He remained where he was, knowing she could do nothing to hurt him. In a desperate attempt to make him pay, she beat on his chest with the bottom of her fists, hitting his armor twice before collapsing on him in sobs. He expressed disapproval of his behavior only in his expression, and held her close, knowing that her depression was reasonable, but at the same time waiting for her to stop. "You killed Maximus…" she cried, her body wracked with the sobs that shook her body.

"It's something that had to be done, Lucille." He said simply, walking her over to the bed and sitting down, letting her lean into him and continue her seemingly infinite sobs.

"Its allright, my sister….it's allright…."


	3. Pictures

Author's Note (because you all love'm .):

Ok…two chapters in one day…it's a new record. People, E-mail me with any plotlines you might come up with, because so far, I've got none...which makes for a crappy story, allright? Also, I'm going to have a two-shot Gladiator contest, e-mail me for more info about that…because you people refuse to read my profile page.

Chapter 3

"I want no one going in there, nor is she to come out." Commodus thundered to the guards as he stormed out of Lucilla's room, after yet another rejection. The guards saluted him as he walked past, and nothing more.

As Commodus entered a new room, he paced around it, mumbling to himself about how different she would've reacted to Maximus, among other things.

"You must get these thoughts out of your head, sir." A voice from the shadows gave him a start, and he turned to the darkness to try and see who was there, but to no avail. He did not recognize the voice, though it did sound slightly familiar.

"Show yourself." He commanded, and was relived when he saw Falco emerge from the shadows.

"I mean no harm, Caesar; I did not mean to startle you."

"Well you did." Commodus turned away to resume him mumblings. "Lucius!" he ceased his pacing and turned to look at Falco. "Lucius, where is he?"

"He never left the room, sir. He awaits you." Falco bowed almost apologetically.

"Good….I'll go and see him."

"Yes sir." Falco bowed once more as Commodus passed him to leave the room, unsure of what to expect from his nephew. Anger for killing what might've been his friend? Depression from not seeing anyone? What to expect from such a young boy…?

The young boy jumped, looking up from his papyrus and looking over his shoulder at his uncle. His expression showed neither happiness, nor sadness. What bothered Commodus the most was that he was unable to comprehend what the boy might be thinking as he turned back towards his paper without a word. The silence was deafening, and for once Commodus wanted, more than anything, his nephew to say something.

"Hello, uncle." Was all Lucius would mutter as he continued what Commodus thought to be a drawing.

"How are you, Lucius?" Commodus tried to be as polite as possible, as to not upset the boy. "Are you finding yourself well?"

"Yes, sir." He did not look up as his uncle stood behind him, trying to lean over his shoulder and see what he was drawing. Lucius made sure to lean in his way.

"What is with this 'sir'?" The emperor questioned, straightening up as the young one purposely blocked his view. "Why do you call me this now, when you have never done so before?" His voice was soft, attempting comfort, though he wasn't entirely sure how far he'd gotten with that.

To his comment, Lucius said nothing. Commodus wasn't sure why, though he thought it had something to do with his killing Maximus. The silence dealt him a hard blow, and it hurt the young Emperor to believe that even his own nephew now despised him.

"What is wrong, Lucius?" Commodus pressed for Lucius to respond, but to no avail. He resisted the strong, and still growing, urge to release his temper. The once again deadly silence threatening to take hold, the Emperor wanted to say something, but found no words. The silence grew unnerving, and he thought of leaving Lucius to his drawing. He turned to leave when he was halted.

"Why must I be punished for my mother's wrong doing?" Lucius asked, not looking up. Commodus turned and looked at him. "Why did you have to kill Maximus, and Gracchus, and Gaius?" He now turned to face his uncle, who'd frozen at the mention of his late rival.

"Sometimes you have to do things to protect your throne." Commodus staggered over the words a bit, trying to find how to explain this the right way. "Some people want to take it from you, and you have to protect it."

"If being Emperor means I have to kill innocent people, I don't want it." Lucius found the courage to challenge his uncle, though this wasn't hard. He found saying certain words would pierce his uncle's heart, and these words did indeed cut through him like a knife. Commodus felt the sharp sting and flinched as if Lucius had hit him. Lucius…not wanting to be Emperor? Surely there was some mistake…?

"You don't mean that." Commodus gave a weak chuckle, clearly hoping beyond hope that his nephew was joking with him.

"No, uncle, I don't want to kill people who are guilty of no crime."

"Enough foolery!" Snapped Commodus rather sharply, unable to hold back. Lucius looked hurt as his uncle's tone, knowing he was unpleased.

"It's no foolery, uncle! I'll have nothing to do with it!"

"You don't know what you're saying! Of course you want to be Emperor!"

"Don't tell me what I do and do not want to do!" Lucius cried furiously, now standing and facing his uncle in only a partially threatening matter. Commodus saw a flash of Maximus standing defiantly in front of him, staring him down. For a moment he was scared, but then he realized it was only a flashback.

"You will be a great Caesar!" He challenged weakly, the visions of Maximus making him sick with worry at what might happen with Lucius.

"I won't! I shall have nothing to do with murder!" The small boy flew from the room, racing out the door before Commodus could stop him. He only watched the now empty doorway and covered his eyes with his hands, sitting down on Lucius' bed.

"I'm losing everyone that is dear to me…" He whispered, massaging his forehead. He opened his eyes and looked at the floor where Lucius' drawing had fallen. He reached forward and picked it up, examining it with a kind of horrified shock.

The drawing was of himself and two others; one that had to be Lucius and the other…could it be? No…the other was Maximus, rising out of the ground. The outlines were harsh and shrewd, like most twelve-year-olds' drawings are, but he could clearly make this out. Lucilla stood smiling to the side…and he himself lay on the ground.

Dead.


	4. You're only my brother

Authors Note:

Okay, guys, I am SERIOUSLY sorry about the prolonged wait. My computer had quite a few viruses and my word program things were being evil. It counted my words and it was like, "she typed twelve! Freeze now!" and I couldn't do ANYTHING. It took about fifty virus scans and twelve defragging things to get it to work. So I'm back now, and I'll make it up!

"Lucilla!" Commodus stormed out of Lucius' quarters. A slave was walking through the hall, and upon hearing Caesar, turned to respond with the required 'Hail Caesar'. He got barely to 'Caes—' before Commodus merely shoved him out of the way and continued on. "Lucilla, where are you!" He called almost desperately, temporarily forgetting that Lucilla was placed indefinitely in her chambers.

He paused, holding back the hot tears that threatened him. A short exhaling, something of a sob, escaped him, but upon realizing he was in a public hall, he continued on, remembering now that Lucilla was in her chambers, Lucius more likely than not with her, though he'd demanded no one was allowed with her. Despite this, the guards would probably let him in. The first company she would've had in quite a while.

Knocking gently, or asking if she'd like him to come in as he'd done so often before. Instead, he shoved the guards out of the way and entered furiously, startling Lucilla. His cold gaze fell on her, recognizing the boy. He was crying into his mothers arms, obviously not able to hold it all in.

Commodus looked over his shoulders at the guards returning to their post, calling one of them over. The guard announced the quite annoying 'Hail Caesar' before doing anything else. Commodus pointed to the boy, his gaze locked with rage on his nephew.

"Take him to his chambers. Have three guards watch him. He is not allowed to leave until I deem it okay." His voice lowered to a harsh whisper on the last part of his order. Lucilla screamed a string of words, insulting the guard, and threatening him with what seemed her entire vocabulary, fighting him off and trying to slap him as he pulled Lucius away. It'd been her first time in a week and a half since she'd seen her son, and she didn't want it to be so quickly over.

The guard walked out, and Lucilla rose, her tear-reddened eyes locked depressingly on Commodus.

"Why must you be so angry with him?" Her voice quivered with every word she spoke. "He's only a child, Commodus, you can't expect him to understand everything about being emperor."

"He must learn soon, then. I had to learn quickly when I was young. He'll do the same."

"If he doesn't want to be emperor, there's nothing you can do about it, brother." There was no disrespect in her voice. She was just stating facts and telling him the truth. "If you make him, he'll just ruin everything, seeking to get revenge."

"I don't plan on forcing him." The Emperor declared after a moment of silence. He stepped forward, a hand on her cheek and the other moving easily to her waist and pulling her close to him. His forehead rested delicately on hers, and his half-open eyes locked on his sister's eyes as well. "You'll just have to provide me with a true heir." He whispered to her, half-smiling.

She hitched her breath, pushing him away with a glare. She shook her head, finding no words to speak. Why must he try this again and again? She opened her mouth but still found herself speechless. After a few moments, she was able to find the courage to speak the words she'd wanted to tell him for years on end.

"I would never bear your child, Commodus. You are deeply disturbed, and father knew that, too." The next words she spoke she knew would cut him deeply. "And _that's_ why he didn't make you Caesar."

Commodus froze at this, trying to fight back once more the tears that'd threatened him before. His lips pulled into a distorted frown, one he hoped that'd appeared full of disgust. However, he failed and only succeeded in looking like a pathetic puppy that'd been kicked repeatedly.

"But I am Caesar, now, sister." He hissed, grabbing her upper arm quickly moving to kiss her, as he wanted to do for so long. She responded with a swift slap across his face, pulling away and looking him directly in the eye.

"You are still only my brother, Commodus." She stared him down.

He had stayed turned, unmoving from when she'd slapped him. Harsh reality was always hardest to deal with…he'd learned that the hard way. And now he realized that he'd never have his sister. She'd never love him as he loved her.

A long silence, his sisters gaze never moving, before he spoke.

"Go. You're free to leave." He whispered, his voice now quivering as hers had done. Lucilla did feel some regret, wounding him so deeply as she had done before, but she supposed it was only family loyalty. She'd feel guilty about hurting her brother no matter what…but that wouldn't stop her from doing it again and again.

She walked past him, brushing by the guards on her way out. She was on her way to Lucius' chambers, wanting to see her son again.

Commodus was left alone in a room once more, and he could only help but wonder why this always happened to him. He'd gotten everything he'd wanted when it came to ruling, but with that success came the loss of everything, and everyone, else in his life.


	5. Temptation

Author's Note:

Heeey, look at this…I've had this chapter for a good while, and forgot about it…sorry about that, any fans that have still stayed to read on!

But this story is in trouble. I seem to have come to a stand-still, and can't seem to write much more. Please try sending me a message or two with some advice? It'd all be welcome. Onto the story you've been waiting to read…

Chapter 5:

Temptation

For the third time since he'd killed Maximus, Commodus now sat in a private chamber, busts of all the previous great Caesar's surrounding him. For now, he sat on the floor, knees tucked to his chest and elbows resting on them. His face was buried in his hands in a mixture of emotions: confusion, depression, anger, and a few others brought on by the rejection of seemingly everyone he ever loved.

Sobs wracked his body again. Again…and again…and again. This was the only place he'd ever allow himself to cry. No one but him was allowed into it, and so no one would be able to see or here his weakness. Yet sometimes he wondered. The sounds of his cries echoed off the walls so loudly, it was a mystery to him how no one heard it. But with this thought always came another: maybe they just didn't say anything.

And for some reason, this angered him. He didn't know why, he just knew that for some reason, the thought that they heard him, but said nothing, brought on rage. Why did they offer no condolence? He did not want it, but it would have made him feel better if they'd at least try. But no, everyone pushed him away. Everyone.

He turned his reddened gaze towards the bust of his father: the one that sat in the middle of all the others and stared him down. The white, pure structure stood as a memory of all his father did. It was much like the older man: pure. Or so it seemed. He'd made many mistakes, that tyrant. But no one cared…it was because he was a 'great ruler'. Unlike himself; or so everyone else continued to think. He'd never fill his father's footprints, never.

Commodus rose to his feet, starting to walk towards the head, when he froze. _No._ he thought to himself, and leaned back against the wall. He threw his head back and let it rest there, holding in the scream he so desperately wanted to let loose. The recurring thought hit him once more: Why was this happening?

Now he decided to speak, if not to the bust of his father, to himself. He was crazy for doing this, he knew…but talking to this bust made him feel like he was talking to his father, which led to his feeling a bit better about the situation.

"Why, father?" He stared at the blank eyes that watched him, his voice quivering with the tears that once more threatened to spill down his cheeks. "Why have you cursed me so?"

He could almost picture his father trying to comfort him, unsuccessful as he'd always been. _It was not me, Commodus; you'd brought it on yourself for the murder of many. But you can redeem yourself._

"But why?" He made his way in long strides towards the marble head. "Why _this_ curse? Why must everyone I love reject me?"

"_Take a look at your past actions, my son. Try and see _why_ they've rejected you. There _is_ a way to fix this; you must find it for yourself._" He could imagine it all.

"Why can't you be here to tell me everything's all right!" Commodus cried to the ceiling, falling to his knees as he'd done so many times in this very room. He fell forward, sobbing into the floor through his arms. "Why couldn't you just accept me as a son, and love me as you did Maximus…" his rival's name came as a whisper, and he could not bear to speak it any louder.

After several more minutes of crying and trying to calm himself, Commodus again rose to his feet, staring down the head. He withdrew a dagger, pressing it to the left side of his throat, where blood ran through a massive vein in his neck.

"Maybe I should just paint you with my blood and end this all now. Lucius would lead them all well." He spoke what he knew. A few moments passed, and Commodus drew a breath, the pressure of the blade growing on his neck. _Don't be weak._ He closed his eyes, feeling the tears begin to build up once again. He broke down, throwing the dagger to the ground in front of the bust. It hit the ground with a metallic clatter, and before the sound had the chance to echo through the walls, Commodus had disappeared up the steps once more.


End file.
